The Dwindling Thought
by beaumontlove
Summary: Making the move from the States to England was one of the biggest changes in her life. Another was getting herself drawn into the lifestyle her father hoped to avoid.
1. Prelude

Many people believe there's life after death. Although, some believe once buried, that's it. The body becomes one with the Earth and decomposes with the help of maggots, rats- anything that can get within reach of decaying flesh.

Olivia Pearson didn't want to know. At the age of 16, she never knew what it was like to be alone until her mother and father were gone. She was an only child, her only family being her Aunt Louise- a sweet yet ditsy woman who lived in Small Heath, Birmingham.

Originally from Birmingham, her father, Robert Pearson, fled from his hometown in search of a new start after he turned 18. New York was where he ended up, working for a betting shop on the outskirts of New York City. The betting shop is how he met her mother. Born Maeve Richmond, her mother was an American citizen born and raised in the States. Maeve came with her father, who was known for his gambling addiction and big mouth. Something that nearly led him to being banned many times.

A few years later, Maeve and Robert were engaged with Olivia on the way. Maeve's family disowned her once they found out she was pregnant, calling her unborn child the "first and last bastard to be born" in their family. She didn't care much, however, merely putting her time into her relationship, and then family once Olivia was born.

In 1905, Robert opened his own betting shop below their bakery- despite the risk it put himself and his family into. NYC Bets was an under-the-table organization that ran throughout her childhood.

By the age of 12, Olivia knew more about placing bets than some of the older men who barged in, money in hand with foul-mouthed words leaving their lips.

Barely a week after the funeral, Olivia was on a ship to London with what inheritance she was left with. Unbeknownst to her, her father was deep in debt with surrounding shops which left her little to nothing once their dues were paid. She wondered how she could reinvent herself once she settled into her new hometown.


	2. Chapter 1

_1919_

Olivia's hair whipped wildly with the wind, her heels clicking with each step she took. A cloud of smoke left her lips as she made her way inside, her cigarette hitting the ground behind her before the door shut. She welcomed the sudden barrage of loud music and people dancing. Nothing changed in the last few years, nor did she ever expect it to.

The band carried on from one jazzy tune to the next, the seemingly endless crowd of dancers not once faltering. Every time she attended the Cheltenham races, she found herself in awe of the men and women that twirled, skipped, and wove their way through each other so gracefully. Their worries seemed nonexistent as they laughed and worked their way around the room. Olivia wished she could be so careless. Wished she could be the one being led around the room by a handsome man.

Unfortunately, that fantasy was swatted away as Billy Kimber made his way to her, arms opened in a welcoming manner. She forced a smile, allowing him to take her hand and kiss it.

"Ms. Pearson. Thrilled you could make it." He began, gesturing for her to go ahead of him as they made their way to the bar. His nasally accent caught wind and she forced herself not to cringe. "You're looking just as lovely as ever."

"Kimber, we both know I'm not here to be flattered or wooed," she paused, slipping her gloves from her hands as she accepted a glass of champagne from the bartender. "What is it that you called me here for?"

Taking a sip from her glass, she watched his stature become less rigid and the facade he put up fall. She knew this wasn't a typical race day. Lately, she'd send Benjamin out to the races to gather her winnings. The drive and drama seemed to get worse every time she came out and she knew all too well what some of these gangsters were capable of. She was taking a big risk with being inside on her own. Benjamin sat in the car, waiting.

Looking around, he seemed to scan the crowd before he turned back to her. "Thomas _fucking _Shelby is bloody what." He nearly snarled the man's name with a look of disgust on his face. "Fucking gypsy scum fixed a race." Wandering eyes caught Kimber's attention, much to Olivia's amusement, and he took her arm and pulled her along with him.

Once inside the remote clubhouse that overlooked the races, she shook her arm from his grasp with an irritated expression. "And _what _exactly does that have to do with me?"

Kimber sneered, inching towards her with his finger pointed at her, "It _means, _poppet, that you and I are both taking the shit. Fixed race, _money gone, _right? And some egotistic Brummie garbage running off with our lot." His scowl fixated on her; eyebrows drawn together in anger. "Let alone the fact that our bookies' loyalty seems to be wavering. We might as well wrap them in a tight, glittery fucking ribbon and toss them on the Shelby's doorstep."

He had begun to pace, the steam almost visible as it blew from his ears. It took Olivia a lot not to laugh at how humorous the tightly spun man looked.

Of course, Olivia knew of the race being fixed. It's why she made sure to lay her bets on the opposite. Kimber was losing his money, but she wasn't losing hers. Nor was she losing her men. She knew too many people within the streets of Small Heath to be undone by such an unruly group of men.

The Peaky Blinders were infamous amidst the whole of Birmingham. She learned to tread lightly when she first arrived, laying low once her own betting shop was up and running. Thanks to a rivalry between Freddie Thorne and Thomas Shelby (and the fact that Freddie was fucking Ada Shelby), Olivia soon had her own set of eyes and ears.

Ada, although naive when it came to love, was one of the only people Olivia was close to. Aside from her aunt, who died a year after she arrived, and Freddie, Olivia could only confide in Ada. Her incessant loathing of Thomas gave Olivia almost everything she needed to stay off the grid and out of the crossfire that came with the Peaky Blinders. She would do anything for Ada, despite the risk it put her at.

A vice-like grip on her chin brought her attention back to the man before her, his whiskey breath smacking her in the face and making her grimace, "it also means that if you had any knowledge of this, I'll have you six feet under with a bullet through your fucking head."

The sound of a gun cocking made Kimber freeze, his hand dropping as he turned to see Benjamin, nearly six-foot with a mop of curly brown hear atop his head, with a gun aimed directly at the kingpin's head.

Olivia massaged her chin, the roughness of his fingers leaving a dull ache. She moved around him, her eyes narrowed, "touch me again and you'll find yourself at the bottom of the canal in Camden Town. Alfie would have a field day with that."

Kimber's eyes narrowed, anger evident. She had struck a nerve. Never, in the few years they'd worked together, had neither of them made any kind of attempt on the other's life. Thanks to the Shelby's, Kimber was beginning to become sloppy and rash. His decision making was dwindling, surely leading him down a path that was going to get him killed.

The rigid man made his way towards the door, stopping as he passed the two of them. "You just keep to our agreement." Then, he was gone. Leaving Olivia and Benjamin, his gun holstered once again.

The threat was insinuated, buried beneath his words.

_Cross me and you're dead._

The next day came, Kimber's letter sitting between her fingers as she sat at the table. Hot tea sat, cooling, while a cigarette rested within her other hand. Kimber had met with Thomas Shelby, along with his two brothers John and Arthur. They had come to an agreement in order to beat the Lee family.

"Fucking idiot," she laughed, taking a drag of her cigarette.

Olivia knew that agreement was going to fall through. Thomas Shelby knew what he was doing. He fixed the race with the sole purpose of gaining Kimber's attention and working a deal with him. However, she knew better than to trust any kind of contract between the Blinder's and the Lee's. Johnny Dogs was nearly family when it came to the Shelby's. No matter how many times the Lee's and Shelby's went at each other's throats it seemed they always settled back into a quiet understanding.

The Blinder's were after a percentage of Kimber's winnings and, if she was right, a way to obtain legal betting pitches. Kimber was too focused on bringing down the Lee's. He was going to be blind-sided and, more than likely, stripped clean and killed.

A knock on the front door caught her attention and she called for Amelia, her live-in maid, to answer it. She put out her cigarette, a sigh leaving her lips as she rubbed her eyes. She really needed to get more sleep.

Amelia came around the corner, Ada following behind with a smile.

"Ada!" Olivia's lips curled happily, standing to greet her friend with a hug. "How are you?"

Ada laughed, pulling away from her friend. "I'm alright. Going a bit fucking mad stuck in that shit hole," she groaned, her hands running along her stomach. Her bump was beginning to become more defined.

Olivia had offered to let Freddie and Ada stay with her but with the police on their ass, Freddie didn't want to put Olivia out. She tried talking them into it, but despite Ada's pleas with her fiancé, he wouldn't budge. It worried her. A person could only take so much when it came to be holed up in a small room such as the one they lived in.

With a baby on the way, Olivia knew the stress would eventually cause her to lash out and the damage could hurt herself or the baby.

"Freddie's been in and out for the past week." She took the seat Olivia offered, "dodging coppers, big communist meetings, whatever it is he bloody does when he's gone. He barely tells me anymore." She groaned. Amelia brought a cup of tea for Ada, setting it down to which Ada thanked her.

"He's still on about that? Even with the risk it's putting _both _of you at?" Olivia asked, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. "By God, does he not know every copper is out for his ass?"

"Oh, he knows," Ada scoffed, lifting her cup to her lips and taking a sip of the warm tea. "Just doesn't give a shit, it seems. Don't get me wrong, I support the cause. I support _him_. But at what point does it stop, even for a second? When our child is halfway out of my twat? One arm out, waving a fucking white flag?"

Olivia couldn't contain the laugh that left her lips and it drew one from Ada as well. Ada always had a way with words.

"Well, you're always welcome here." Olivia offered, finishing her cup of tea.

She could see Ada's uncomfortable shift. She knew she wanted to, but knew Freddie refused due to the target on his head.

"Anyway," Ada began, "how are you, Livie?"

Olivia honestly didn't know how to answer. Was she okay?

"Honestly, Ada, I think it's time for a night out." She grinned wide, Ada reflecting it.

There was one place they could both go without being bothered, nor would they be hassled.


	3. Chapter 2

Laughter echoed around the room, glasses clinked and were banged against the wooden bar. Drunken men and sleazy women were strewn around the building, hands up dresses, no sense of dignity. It was a normal night, she supposed.

The Garrison was packed to the T. It'd been awhile since she was there, normally accompanied by two of her men. Benjamin was the only one she brought with her, offering him a night to mix business and pleasure. He deserved it. Ever since she had moved, he'd been there. Making sure she was taken care of and safe.

The new barmaid, Grace, rushed around, filling orders. It was almost comical. A grimace would occasionally settle upon her face as she tried not to drop or spill any drinks. The girl clearly had no experience at all. However, with all the drunken men that came in and left, she fit in well and hid the worst of it.

Harry had to have hired her primarily for her looks. There's no way he would've normally hired a woman, especially one so inexperienced.

Ada was sat next to Olivia, a glass of beer in her hand. Olivia had tried to talk her out of drinking. She knew it couldn't be good for the baby, but Ada wasn't one to keep up an argument with, so she let it go.

The sound of singing caught her attention and Olivia turned, eyes falling on Grace.

"Hmm, pretty and can sing," Olivia muttered to Ada, bemused at the group of men singing along with her.

"Only way Tommy would let her sing," The younger girl snorted. "Why else would he invite her to the races? Surprised she isn't a whore."

This intrigued Olivia. Grace had barely been in Small Heath a month, yet here she was being invited to the races and by none other than Thomas Shelby. There's no way she wasn't a whore. Although, if she wasn't, what else could he see in her?

"Ada." The stern voice drew both girl's attention, their eyes meeting the grim expression of Polly Gray.

Ada groaned, childlike almost, before she tipped the rest of her drink back and stood from her stool, "well, I bid you _adieu, _Livie," she sighed, the older woman taking hold of her arm and gesturing for her to leave.

Those steely eyes landed back on her. Olivia could see Harry from her peripheral vision watching closely, along with Benjamin, as Polly stared her down, seeming to size her up, before she followed Ada from the bar.

Although Olivia had never met Polly, she knew by the description Freddie had given her. It was more accurate than she would've believed. Long and brown curly hair pulled back from her face. Eyes; dark brown, nearly black up close and in the dim lighting of the pub. She was terrifying in a sense, but Olivia knew of the softer side of the woman. However, she also knew of Polly's dark side, which drew an uneasy feeling in her stomach.

She hoped she wouldn't be mentioned to any of the Peaky boys. It's the last thing she needed.

Days passed, slowly but surely, until finally she was in the clubhouse of the Cheltenham races. A sense of déjà vu washing over her as she watched the crowds, stands filling with people from all over the area. Today was the day she would meet Thomas Shelby, find the angle he has on Kimber and attempt to be a step ahead of him in order to bring in not only Kimber's percentage, but the Blinder's as well. This would double the amount she already brings home.

Now that she knew Grace was accompanying the gangster, Olivia knew she had to stand out and capture the man's attention.

Olivia wore a satin, lace-trimmed and pink dress that hugged her curves and fell to her ankles. A slit was visible, stopping right above her knee, and her heels matched her attire. The hat she wore was simple, yet elegant, rounding out and shadowing her face from prodding eyes as she made her way down to the dance floor. She liked to keep herself as private as possible when down in the lower level of the clubhouse. It's the main reason she bought a second section, overlooking the racetrack.

However, today was one of those days she had to draw attention to herself. As uncomfortable as she felt on the inside, she remained unfazed on the outside, graceful even, as she made her way to the bar.

"Rum," Olivia spoke, pulling a cigarette from the case she kept tucked in her purse. "Irish, please." She lit the cigarette, the smoke slipping into her lungs then streaming past her teeth.

Drink in hand, she turned, keeping her face partially concealed as she scanned the room. Kimber was sat with his accountant, Roberts. His eyes found her, and a smug look crossed his face, the woman sitting next to him eyeing her as well.

She didn't know if Thomas would show up or even be able to make it into the clubhouse. Based on his reputation, it was a slim to none chance of him getting in. Although, by what Ada had told her, she knew that Thomas could easily sway a person into trusting him.

A hand on her lower back made her turn, a forced, yet polite smile on her lips as she met Kimber's eyes.

"Ms. Pearson. May I?" He offered his hand and she took it after snuffing her cigarette out.

The two of them fell into step as they swayed with the crowd of people. His hand set low, tightly, holding her against him.

"You received my letter?" He muttered into her ear.

"Yes, Mr. Kimber." Her voice was low as she spoke, her hand resting on his shoulder. He pulled away, spinning her with one hand before pulling her back against him.

"And?" Was all he said.

Her eyes wandered around the room until she found Benjamin, his eyes set on her and he nodded. A way of letting her know he was watching and ready for anything.

"I believe it was a foolish move." She murmured into his ear. His grip on her lower back grew tighter, his fingers digging into her back. Gritting her teeth, she continued, "how can you be so sure you can trust any of them?"

"My men outnumber theirs," he seemed offended as he spoke, irate, yet concealing it well. "If they try and fuck it all, we kill them. Simple, right?"

Olivia didn't respond, dumbfounded by the idiocy Kimber radiated. _Men_, she thought, _they always think with their triggers and dicks_.

After being led back to the bar, Kimber excused himself. The burning sensation his fingers left in her back replaced by a sudden relief and she exhaled, turning and tipping her glass back before she ordered another one.

Kimber was playing with fire, as cliché as it sounded. The trigger-happy fuck was going to get himself killed. However, that would play well in her favor. Though, she knew if Thomas was the reason for Kimber's demise, he would surely fill those shoes. She needed to get in between the contract and find a way to stay out of the limelight at the same time. Not easy in the slightest.

As the music changed again and again, Olivia found herself finishing her fifth rum before a blonde head of hair appeared next to her. The familiar voice made her turn.

Grace stood next to her, drink in hand with a beautiful red, laced and flower-patterned gown hugging her body. It seemed plain compared to her own, though it did fit her well.

Olivia wanted to laugh. Now she knew exactly why Thomas had asked her along. The dress was the exact color of Kimber's handkerchief that rested in his breast pocket. Thomas had stooped to the level of using this poor woman as a pawn to get Kimber's attention and get on his good side.

_Smart, smart man. _Olivia thought to herself.

Looking to the table Kimber and Roberts sat at, Olivia found that they weren't the only ones there. Sat next to Kimber was, who she believed to be, Thomas Shelby. His facial expression was set as Kimber spoke to him. Business, she knew. Kimber seemed to have an aspect about himself that gave off a 'business' vibe, so to say.

A cocky look would set on his face, his hand gestures laid-back, trying too hard almost. Watching them, she could nearly hear his nasally accent in her ear.

A tap on her shoulder made her turn and her eyes met that of Grace's. A smile was on her lips, "excuse me? May I borrow a light?"

"Oh," Olivia nodded, pulling a match from her purse and handing it to the other woman, who thanked her.

Grace's gaze seemed to linger on her, and she fought the uneasy feeling in her stomach. "I feel as though I've seen you before..."

Olivia gave a polite smile, shaking her head, "I doubt it." A laugh left her lips, "I'm from Camden Town in London." A lie, but she couldn't have this woman knowing who or where she originated from. "And, you?"

"Small Heath in Birmingham." Grace replied, taking a drag of her cigarette. "You don't sound like you're from England, at all."

"Very observant," She joked, taking a sip of her drink. "Moved from the States a few years ago. Seems the American accent it here to stay, though."

"It's nice." Grace complimented, "different... Refreshing, honestly."

Kimber interrupted, asking Grace for a dance.

Olivia could see the uncomfortable shift in her demeanor. Grace wasn't expecting him to ask for a dance. Kimber shot her a look to which she rolled her eyes.

Kimber believed himself to be such a lady's man. She scoffed beneath her breath. That was a joke to tell one day.

"Excuse me," a voice interrupted her thoughts and she snuffed her cigarette out, turning to find herself face-to-face with the man she'd came to meet Thomas Shelby. He offered his hand, "would you care to dance?"

Olivia marveled at his confidence. He didn't seem to be the kind of man to back down, which she knew, but being up close was something different.

Unable to find her voice, she took his hand, holding his gaze. She glanced around, Grace and Kimber seemed to have vanished. This clarified exactly what Olivia had thought. He'd used her as a pawn, possibly included her in whatever agreement the two men had come to.

His mouth was by her ear, his hand flat against her lower back and holding her against his front. This was different from dancing with Kimber. Dancing with Kimber was- well, grotesque. Made her uncomfortable.

With Thomas, it seemed the opposite. She was more relaxed as they swayed, keeping up with each jaunty tune that played. God, did he smell good too. This man was all-in-one. Beautiful, mysterious, dangerous- one of a kind.

"Kimber mentioned you were in business with him," he began, spinning her out before tucking her back against him.

Olivia forced herself to remain calm and collected, "and, what business is that of yours?"

This seemed to amuse him, the corner of his lips twitching upwards. "Well, if what he said is true, you're running opposite of us. In _my _town. Without _my _knowledge _or _permission."

"How about we talk in private, shall we, Mr. Shelby?"

Slipping from the dance floor, she avoided Benjamin's view, needing Thomas to feel he can trust her.

"So, you know who I am." It wasn't a question. More of a statement. The doors had shut behind him as they walked into her section of the upper floor.

"I'd have to be one of the least educated women in the country if I didn't." She replied, pulling her hat from her head, she set it aside.

A cigarette was between her lips now, her hand shaking the match out as she inhaled the smoke.

"Yet, I had no idea you even existed. _Nor _did I know you were running bets under the table, right under my nose." Thomas said, taking a few steps towards the glass window that overlooked the ongoing race.

"Seems everything was going as planned until Kimber's big mouth opened, I see," she took a drag, French inhaling the smoke as it seeped from her lungs.

His eyes held hers, calculating. She knew he was thinking. Wondering how she'd gone unnoticed for so long. How much money she's possibly made staying so under the radar. It left him nearly speechless.

"How?" Was all he asked.

"Mr. Shelby, I didn't pop up into your office or home, asking questions of your business or about yourself." She stated, her eyebrow lifting. "There was a reason for that. I don't trust you, nor do I trust Kimber. So, why on earth do you think I'd start spilling secrets now?"

"If you want Kimber out of the way, there's got to be some level of trust." He stated, pulling a card from his pocket.

It had an address printed in ink, leading to Watery Lane. She knew where it was. Had been told months ago when she befriended Ada. It's how she was able to avoid encountering any of the Blinder's for as long as she had managed.

Looking up from the card, she narrowed her eyes, "what makes you think I want Kimber gone?"

"Well," turning towards the door, Thomas made his way to it before turning and speaking, "there's only one way for both of us to take a greater percentage of winnings. We'd both be stupid not to go for the kingpin himself."

With that, he was gone. Olivia's thoughts crashing together as she exhaled loudly. _Jesus, he's intimidating_.

She knew she couldn't trust neither of the two men. However, if she could get help with getting rid of Kimber, her profits would skyrocket. But if Thomas crossed her, she'd be the one with a shallow grave. This was something she'd have to sleep on.

If she could sleep, that is.


	4. Chapter 3

She should've warned Thomas about the Lees plan; however, she had been preoccupied dealing with the mess Kimber created. Olivia was stressed now. Not only did the Shelby's now know of her, they knew where she lived, knew of her business. Knew of almost everything.

News of the grenade going off traveled fast. The people in her shop chatting about it as though it were just another story- not an assassination attempt on Thomas' life. Saving Kimber's bookies helped gain Kimber's trust, but it escalated the war that brewed between the Shelby's and the Lee's.

What struck a nerve with her was the fact that one of their siblings, Finn, was nearly killed by the grenade. In an attempt to kill Thomas, they nearly killed an innocent child.

The only good news seemed to be the fact that Inspector Campbell, a cop who was set on finding Freddie and some stolen guns, was swayed to arrest Stanley Chapman and allow Freddie and Ada to leave the city. However, she hoped that Thomas wasn't that daft.

When the shop finally closed, she bid her employees a farewell before offering Benjamin the night off. He, of course, objected but she convinced him she'd be fine. She wanted one night at the Garrison to relax and have fun. Something she hadn't done in a while.

As she locked the door behind her, Olivia sighed heavily and leaned back against it. The bulk of stress resting on her shoulders like two ten-pound shoulder pads. Everything was going perfectly. She had a plan in place before Kimber blew it to shit. She knew he did it in order to gain some of Thomas' trust. It would've made it easier to fuck him over when the time came. But he merely showed how quick he is to switch up. That's all any of them ever did. The Lees', the Blinder's, Kimber and his men- it was a constant game of switching up on each other.

Running a hand through her hair, she made her way down Watery Lane, digging into her bag for a match after placing the cigarette between her lips.

A gun cocking caught her attention and she froze.

"Dangerous for someone as pretty as you to be out this late," the Irish accent was foreign to her. The man moved to grab her arm, too tightly for her liking, and yanked her into the dark alleyway. "An illegal betting shop being ran by a little broad like you-" he paused, shoving her face first into the brick wall. The coarse texture digging into her cheek. "I almost didn't believe it, if it weren't for a little blonde birdie."

Her eyebrows narrowed, confusion clear in her voice as she spoke, "what in the fuck are you talking ab-..." She was cut off as she was whipped around, a hand wrapping around her throat and slamming her back into the wall yet again. A sharp pain rang out, piercing her temple.

"Don't play stupid with me, you American _trash._" Spit fanned over her face. She could make out some features of the Irishman. A mustache, dark eyebrows resting on a wrinkled forehead. She didn't recognize him from anywhere that she could think of. "Now," he began, seeming to gather himself. "Where is Ada Shelby?"

That's when realization settled in. This was the cop looking for the two of them. The gut feeling she had from before was right. He hadn't meant the promise he made to Thomas.

"I don't know who the-..." A cry left her lips as he pulled his arm back, the pistol slamming down across her cheekbone. She fell to the ground, clutching her cheek. Warmth covered her hand. A laceration ran along her cheek, about 2 inches long. The pain was something different. She'd never been hit before like that. It was debilitating almost.

The cop yanked her back to her feet by the collar of her blouse, pushing her back into the wall.

Letting her go and stepping back, he spoke, "Just remember, Ms. Pearson, it's not only I that you have to worry about." Tipping his hat with the outline of a smug grin on his face, he walked away.

Once he disappeared out of her sight, she exhaled through clenched teeth as she pressed her palm to her cheek. Minutes passed as she stood there, anger bubbling in her stomach.

"_Fuck_!" She hissed, turning and kicking a nearby barrel. It flew over, rolling partially away before it settled.

"'Ello?" A voice called out and she rounded the corner. A figure was walking towards her, cautiously. She could just make out a newsboy cap, along with a suit. "You alright?"

"Uh, I... -" She stammered, still fighting off the pain that radiated from her cheek to the rest of her skull. "Yeah, just... uh, fucked my last cigarette." She attempted to keep her head ducked down, avoiding any of the streetlights.

"Oh, well, 'ere." As he stepped into the light, she could see an immediate resemblance to Thomas. He had to be one of his brothers, she thought. Not everybody looks that good around these parts.

He held out a cigarette for her, which she took, and placed it between her lips. The warmth from the blood ran down her cheek and she looked back, hoping to brush it away with the sleeve of her sweater.

"Do you have a light, uh...?" She asked, turning back to the man in question.

"John," he stated, pulling a match out from his pocket. He flicked the tip of it, a small fire coming to life. As he leaned forward, the flame nearing her cigarette, it illuminated her face and John froze. "Jesus-... fuck. What happened?"

Before she could talk, he had her hand and she was following him towards the Garrison. The lights grew brighter and then they were walking in. What seemed to be a celebration came to an end as three sets of eyes landed on her.

Thomas' were the only ones she met. His smiled seemed to fade, his hand falling from his drink as John led her to the bar. He seemed oblivious to his surroundings, more so the reaction of Thomas.

"Grace, get me a wet rag." Grace was pulled from her daze, doing as John said. Olivia knew Grace recognized her from the races. Just before she was sent off with Kimber and nearly raped.

"'Ere, sit," John pulled a stool out and she sat, the blood leaking down her neck was warm, keeping her grounded as she forced herself to keep her composure.

"Grace," Thomas spoke then, his eyes not leaving Olivia's. "Go home. I'll close shop."

"But, I-..." She was cut off as he turned to her, just a look and she nodded. One last glance at the woman and she was gone, slipping out the front door.

John wiped at Olivia's cheek which drew a hiss from her lips as she ground her teeth together, "fuck, sorry..."

"John, go be with your wife. Polly's got Ada and the baby." He paused, taking the rag from John's hand.

A confused look was on the younger man's face, but he merely nodded, knowing not to argue with Thomas.

"Baby?" Olivia asked, "Ada had her baby?"

"A boy." Thomas said, wiping at the blood, his touch gentler than John's, though still painful.

"Freddie must be thrilled," a smile pulled at her lips. It only lasted a second as she noticed Thomas pause. "What? Is Ada okay? The ba-..."

"They're fine." He assured her, going back to wiping the blood from her cheek now before he placed the rag on the cut. "This might hurt." His pressure increased and she shut her eyes against the pain. "Freddie was arrested."

"He found them..." She muttered, disbelief in her voice as she pushed Thomas' hand from her face. "That cop, the Irishman, he caught me tonight as I was leaving... he was looking for Ada. I-I... I didn't tell him anything. How did he know?"

Thomas' eyebrows narrowed in question, the puzzle pieces coming together as he looked over the other woman. Someone had given up Freddie Thorne, but who?


	5. Chapter 4

Within the walls of her home, Olivia felt safe. Benjamin and the rest of her men made sure she never felt threatened. They were at her side nearly every minute. She believed that's why she had allowed him the night off the night Campbell had attacked her.

Still, Thomas' kindness as he helped her, cleaning the blood from her face and dressing the wound with a first aid kit they kept stored behind the bar, amazed her. She hadn't expected him to be as gentle, securing the bandage to hold the laceration together.

Thomas had even walked her home, tipping his hat as he spotted Benjamin coming towards the two of them and bidding her a good night. She watched him go, his silhouette fading as he turned a corner.

She had only ever thought of Thomas as an obstacle in her business. Competition, with the unspoken question as to who would take Kimber's spot once he'd been dealt with. Honestly, Olivia believed it all fell into the hands of who succeeded in killing Kimber. It seemed only fair. That meant that she would have to beat Thomas to it. Kimber was going to die, either by her or Thomas' hand. It just came down to who did it.

Olivia worked quickly, checking her gun and making sure each chamber was filled. Her spare ammo was tossed into the bag. As she rushed around her room, careful to grab anything she could fit into her bag, she stopped at the sight of her reflection.

Her hair was mused, the curls wild. Flushed cheeks and a heaving chest weren't something she was used to seeing. Normally, she remained cool under pressure. Not today.

Shaking her head, she tucked a curl behind her ear and finished stuffing her clothes into her overnight bag. When Thomas called, she thought he was joking.

Somehow, Thomas' plan to kill Kimber had gotten to the kingpin and he was headed directly towards the Garrison. From what he said, the Blinder's were outnumbered. The Lee's, who were supposed to be helping, were already at the races. Somebody had snitched to Kimber, alerting him to the plan, and now, the whole of his men was headed to them.

Unsure of who could've leaked the information to him, Olivia had ordered some of her men to aid the Blinder's in their fight. Benjamin and two others, Jackson and Liam, were waiting downstairs for her. She was all over the place. Rechecking drawers she already cleared out. Her cool had been blown the minute she hung up the phone.

As she came down the stairs, Olivia tossed her bag over her shoulder and began to pull on her heels. Her balance was thrown off, the sudden sound of her front door being busted down and an array of gunshots rang out. Her eyes widened as she saw Benjamin be thrown back, his body slamming into the wall opposite of him. When he hit the ground, he went still. The shadow of another figure coming through the doorway.

She fumbled for her gun, fighting to get it unhooked from a loose string that hung from her bag as she backed down the back hallway. Her eyes flicked between the stuck gun and the figure which seemed to be frozen in the doorway, watching her.

Something sturdy stopped her and her back stiffened. An arm wound around her waist, yanking her around and against them, her breath being knocked from her lungs momentarily at the suddenness. The sound of her gun and bag hitting the ground after it was yanked from her made her grimace, her mistake evident. She had forgotten that Liam was guarding the back. He must've been the first one they took out.

She squirmed, bring her arms up to push against her captor's chest. This must have been comical to him and he laughed, his grip only tightening.

"Kimber was right," the burly accent and scent of tobacco confirmed her thoughts. Kimber must've found out that she had planned to help Thomas.

They had both planned to talk once she had arrived at the Garrison. She knew they would've discussed how to split Kimber's lot. Drawn up a contract, possibly even drank on it before they went head on with the London kingpin.

"Get your _filthy _fucking hands off of me!" She spat, seething at the man as she attempted to free herself from his grasp.

"Whoa, there!" The man's grip tightened as she squirmed, a second set of footsteps catching her attention.

"Havin' trouble with a little girl, Benson?" The other voice was pitched, higher than what she expected. He flipped the light switch illuminating the hallway and her captors.

The man who held her, Benson, was a built man with a dark and pencil thin mustache above his narrow lips. His hair was disheveled, sticking out in different directions and greasy looking. He stood about two feet taller than Olivia, easily overpowering her.

The other man was shorter, though his build was heavier. He easily weighed over 150. He was bald, the only hair she could see was on his chin. A pair of glasses rested on the bridge of his nose. Not something you'd expect to see on a kidnapper.

"Fuck off," Benson growled at the other man, pulling Olivia with him as they made their way to what used to be the front door. "She's like a bloody fish- wriggling non-stop!"

Olivia squealed as the man yanked her roughly, crushing her rib in the process. Pulling her foot up quickly, she slammed it back down, digging her heel into Benson's toes and drawing a shout from his throat.

His grip loosened and she ducked down, avoiding the sudden lunge from the other man. A gunshot rang out as she lunged for the back door and wood split just to her right, the bullet embedding itself into the wall.

The door opened with a jerk and she fell forward, nearly face-first into the gravel. The shouts of the men were faint as she regained her balance. Glancing back, she saw the two men stumble from the house, guns waving as their feet rolled unevenly over the stones.

Olivia whipped back around, the sudden force to the side of her head sending her to the ground.

A splitting ring echoed throughout her head as she laid on the rough ground. A foot shoved her over and onto her back, the dark sky was a blur as she tried to open her eyes through the pain. The outline of a man stood above her. He seemed to be shouting, though not at her. His head facing behind her.

Attempting to roll back onto her stomach, she was met with resistance from the man's foot as it dug into her chest.

The last word that ran through her mind was '_fuck_' before everything went black.

Gravel crunching. Laughter. Swaying back and forth. The smell of gunpowder. She thought she would vomit when she finally came to. She knew well enough that she was in vehicle. The constant bumps and turns, jarring her and increasing the pain in her skull. She tried to remember exactly what happened. Everything seemed to be a blur. Her memories winding and curling, meshing together.

When Olivia lifted her head, regret filled her immediately. A pointed shoe dug into her side as she was knocked over, a gruff 'stay down, whore' being spat at her. Laughter erupted yet again, and she could feel the anger in the pit of her stomach.

Everything began to slowly come back to her as she lay still- the cool, metal floor of the truck a relief to the pounding in her head. Kimber's men had broken in as she was getting ready to leave. They had killed her men. She had tried to run, but she only remembers getting out the back door. The rest was a blur.

Her anger was replaced by a sudden sadness. She remembered Benjamin being thrown back. She knew they had killed him. Benjamin was the best out of all her men. He was strong, not easily intimidated. Smart. They had to catch him off guard, that's the only way he would've went down. She knew Benjamin well enough to know he would've put up a hell of a fight.

She wondered if her men had realized she wasn't going to show up. If, maybe, they'd gone to her house. But then- she didn't know. Her orders were to be obeyed. She had told them to go and aid Thomas and the Blinder's before she arrived. _Stupid_, she thought to herself.

Her thoughts were interrupted as she was pulled to her feet by the nape of her neck. It was then that she realized her hands were bound and as she was shoved from the back of the truck, she stumbled, her knees hitting the gravel and forcing her eyes shut. She had forgotten what the feel of gravel felt like when it cut into your skin.

A hand in her hair yanked her to her feet and she bit down onto her lower lip, suppressing a cry of pain. The person led her forward through a group of men and that's when she realized where she was. Garrison Lane.


	6. Chapter 5

The Garrison sat a couple yards ahead of Kimber's men. She couldn't see past them. Her short stature keeping her hidden from view. She could almost bet that Thomas and their men were all lined up, ready with their guns in hand just as Kimber's men were. They were sorely outnumbered, though, she could tell just by the group of men that surrounded her.

"All guns and no balls, eh, Billy boy?" John's voice called out.

Everyone stopped. The man's hand in her hair tightened and she groaned quietly. She hated being like this. A damsel in distress. Very few times had she been in this position and she hated it even more than she did the first time it ever happened.

"It doesn't have to be like this, Kimber!" Thomas was talking now, her heels lifting absently as she tried to look over the men only to have her hair yanked and her body snatched back with the force.

A scoff. "Too late for all that..." Kimber replied, "you bit off more than you can chew, you little toe rag. And now I'm gonna take over this shithole."

Cocky, just like he always had been.

"Well..." She could hear Thomas again, though she didn't move, not wanting to have herself yanked back again. "If we're going to use guns, let us use proper guns." His voice was louder, and her eyebrows narrowed in confusion.

"Sergeant Thorne reporting for duty, sir." Freddie's voice brought a smile to her lips. It was surprising to her that Freddie was there to help Thomas. Though, a part of her hoped they'd made up. If not for themselves, for Ada and the baby.

"You were saying something about being out-gunned?" Thomas called out, his voice dripping with amusement.

Suddenly, guns were raised. And she stiffened, the man who held her had tightened his grip further and she could feel the hairs being pulled from her scalp. His other hand had his weapon drawn- a showdown, she knew.

"Right, well..." Kimber trailed off then suddenly she was being shoved forward. The men moving from her view until she saw them.

Thomas was at the front, the rest of the men fanned out on either side. Freddie had a machine gun and stood to the side of Thomas. He seemed determined- they all did.

However, as they all caught sight of her, Freddie's eyes grew wide. She was thrown down, her knees slamming into the gravel yet again. The front of her body struck the ground and a cry left her lips. The pain was now in her knees, the rocks slicing her almost as if she were lying on broken glass shards.

"Ms. Pearson here seemed to be in a rush when we caught up with her," Olivia could hear the smugness in his voice. "Put up quite the fight."

"This is between me and you... She has nothing to do with this, Kimber." Thomas' voice was stern, trying to talk down the kingpin from doing anything to her, she knew.

"Ah, see," Kimber sighed, a scolding sound leaving his lips. "But she does. She was coming to help you, right?" A hand pulled her up to sit her on her knees. Her eyes met Freddie's, fear- something she'd never seen on his face- evident. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have those three extra men with you, now would you? Yeah."

Everyone was quiet then. The only sounds being the machinery that ran like clockwork in their town. She wondered what Thomas was thinking. His eyes stayed on Kimber, hands by his sides. Freddie seemed antsy, his fingers twitching around the trigger of his gun. John and Arthur seemed to be mirroring Thomas, ready. Her men were rigid, their posture telling her they were unsure what to do. They hadn't expected this situation. Hell, she hadn't expected this to happen.

The barrel of a gun pressed into the back of her head, causing the men to jerk and the gun to cock. She let her eyes fall shut.

Olivia wanted to pray. For anything. To live, to die swiftly- something that would be quick. God, suffering before she died was one of her worst nightmares. It's why she had tried so hard to stay under the radar.

She thought of her parents. Maybe she would get to see them. Or would she go to hell? Olivia was everything but a saint. She had gotten herself into the life her father had tried to keep her out of. For what? Money? She barely even spent money. Every bit she had was put away for her future. Possibly her children- if she were to have any. But now, that money would go to Kimber. He'd kill her and Thomas and take off.

"Move!" A voice rang out. Ada came into view; a baby stroller being pushed.

_Oh, for fuck's sake, Ada._

Ada was dressed in black. Her eyes were on Freddie as she began to speak. When she turned, her eyes meeting Olivia's she seemed to stutter. She quickly regained herself, going on about how the men had all been in France. How she was in black for preparation and who would be attending the other funerals.

"So, go on and fight, but that baby ain't moving..." She paused, her eyes on Freddie. "...and neither am I." Her voice shook, her anger and fear clear. Ada had always been afraid of this, which is why she put some much of the pressure on Freddie.

The gun fell from her head.

"She's right you know." Kimber started and Olivia nearly sighed. Ada got through to him. "Why should all you men die? It should just be them who've caused it."

Kimber's gun rose and he shot. The bullet immediately hit Thomas, his body jerking to the left and his hands coming up to his shoulder.

Danny ran forward, angrily screaming. He was headed towards Kimber, but more shots rang out and Danny fell, dead.

Everything seemed to slow down. Ada moved, pushing the stroller from the line of fire. Her heart hammered in her chest, waiting for her turn. She felt sick. Her stomach churning as she stared down at Danny's lifeless, bloody body.

Olivia's eyes shut as another shot rang out. Expecting that to be it. However, when she heard a thud behind her, she opened her eyes.

Kimber lay dead behind her; the bullet hole was directly in the center of his head. Thomas dropped his arm, his gun clenched in his fist.

"Enough!" Thomas shouted. "Kimber and me fought this battle one-on-one. It's over." His chest heaved, eyes meeting hers before he glanced back to the remaining men. "Go home to your families."

Olivia fell forward, exhausted as her arms were freed. She nearly hit the ground, but a pair of arms stopped her. She looked up to see one of her men, Gunther, concern written on his face. "It's alright..."

A weak smile pulled on her lips and she felt her eyes watering. It had been so long since she cried. Her parent's funeral was the last time. Since then, she had internalized everything. Unhealthy, she knew but it was her only way of dealing with things since she arrived in Birmingham.

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Her body gave in to the exhaustion.


	7. Chapter 6

_**1921**_

Olivia's hand squeezed Ada's, her attempt at comforting her friend. Karl was on the other side of her, his hand in hers. A part of her was jealous of him. He wouldn't remember this. Wouldn't remember the grief of losing his own father. He'd grow up and the only memories he'd have of Freddie would be through the stories that Ada would tell him. However, Olivia's heart broke, as well as Ada's, knowing that he'd never know his own father. Freddie wouldn't be there to watch him grow. To teach him all the things he knew. God knows Freddie would've loved to tell him all about the IRA and the history of communism, how his parents met. All of it.

The sound of a throat clearing made her look up. Thomas stood, looking down at the grave of his best friend. "I promised my friend, Freddie Thorne, that I would say a few words over his grave-if he should pass before me." He paused briefly, "I made this promise before he became my brother-in-law, when we were in France, fighting for the King."

Ada's body shook, her hand tightening in Olivia's. She knew Ada was fighting the tears and, honestly, it took a lot for Olivia not to cry.

Arthur's soft 'amen' brought her eyes to him momentarily, and Thomas continued, "And in the end, it wasn't war that took Freddie. Pestilence took him. But Freddie passed on his soul and his spirit to a new generation before he was cruelly taken."

Olivia watched Ada and Tommy walk together. She knew what he was asking her. The whole family was wondering if Ada would be coming back to Birmingham now that Freddie was gone. But she knew better.

Ada had left because she wanted to be away from her family. Too many times had Ada confided in Olivia with how embarrassing and aggravating it was to be a Shelby at times. She was always expected to act a certain way and do as she was told. Ada hated that. She hated feeling as though she was still a child.

After they had parted ways, although not without a tearful goodbye, Olivia sat in silence beside Tommy. Her hands rested in her lap, the brim of her hat shielding her reddened eyes from view. She wanted to ask what Ada had said when he had talked to her, but Olivia knew better than to overstep.

Riding through the streets of Small Heath, she couldn't help but to think of how things had changed. Olivia and Thomas had merged their businesses, as well as overtook what used to be Kimber's. This had doubled their security and their profits. The Lee's, now family, were an added addition to their lot. With their help, they were able to go about their daily lives without worrying about any backlash.

"What the fuck?" Thomas' voice drew her attention to him, but it quickly moved to where his sight had landed.

Her own disbelief was clear on her face.

The Garrison had been burned down, it seemed. Cops, bystanders—they all stood around the rubble.

"Take Ms. Pearson home," Thomas said to his driver, his eyes not leaving the ruined building.

Before Olivia could argue, the driver pulled off and her anger flared within her chest. She hated when he did that. Spoke for her. It appeared being in business with him was as if she was married to him. They worked well together and always spoke before a final decision was made, but it was different went it came to family matters.

Of course, she knew his stance on family matters. You had to be family.

Standing outside the office, Olivia watched as Tommy spoke with Polly. He seemed agitated, Polly continuing to write and talk. He turned then, nodding for her to come into the small room.

"Polly," she greeted, smiling as the older woman returned it.

"Tomorrow is Newmarket. All the London bosses will be at the races." Thomas spoke, hands slipping into his pockets.

"And so you just roll up and take the city?" Polly questioned, an exasperated expression on her face.

"No," Olivia cut in. Her eyes moving to Thomas and then meeting Polly's. "We take the opportunity to show our hand." She paused, watching Polly's expression change to that of confusion. "The Italian gangs and the Jewish gangs have been at war in London for six months."

"It's not our war." Polly said simply.

"No," Thomas began, "but the Jews have been having the worst of it. They need allies."

"But, we don't." Polly countered, her stern eyes on Thomas', unmoving.

"We need a foothold at the southern end of the Grand Union." Olivia spoke up, attempting to ease the tension between the two heads of the Blinder's.

Polly and Thomas were equally stubborn. They both had the sense that they had to be right or be the head. However, although Polly wouldn't admit it, she wasn't cut out to lead and make some of the decisions. Her emotions seemed to blind her at times. That was the difference between the two of them, as well as Olivia. Olivia had changed the way she viewed the business world. Emotions couldn't interfere with business.

"The Jews control Camden Town." Thomas stated.

Polly stared at him long and hard. "Your mother said, 'It's his cleverness that will get him killed.'" Her eyes saddened and she sighed, hands folding into one another.

"Nobody gets killed, Pol." Thomas promised, leaning forward and placing his hands flat upon her desk. "We go down tomorrow when it's quiet and we leave our message."

Polly seemed to be in thought, her eyes staring down at the book in front of her.

Polly always worried when things like this were brought up. She worried for her boys. Although she wasn't their mother, she had basically raised them after their mother had died and their father abandoned them. When it came to risky situations, she was the only hesitant one.

"If Alfie Solomons and his Camden boys come to us, we'll negotiate the use of a secure bonded warehouse and then our legal activities in London can begin. Olivia has her connections with Alfie and his men. That's our first step." Thomas finished before excusing Olivia.

She was grateful to give Polly some sense of relief. The two had grown closer after Olivia and Tommy merged their companies. It was hard at first, seeing as Olivia wasn't family. However, the two bonded as time passed and trust was formed between them.

"You're lucky you aren't dead!" Olivia said angrily, following Thomas through the dark, smoggy roads of their town. "Nearly fucking got Ada raped and maybe even killed."

Thomas continued to walk until they reached a gate and he struggled to yank it open. She huffed loudly, mumbling an array of curses under her breath before she managed to shove the gate open. Distinct whispers could be heard.

"Tommy?" Charlie questioned, the sight of the two of them making him holster his gun.

"Curly, get the oil that goes on their legs when they go lame." Thomas ordered, stumbling as he followed the man. "The yellow stuff. Go on."

Charlie was astounded by what Thomas requested, his eyes turning to Olivia and she shrugged. Thomas was a mystery to her at times.

"We need a boat to London. Tonight." Olivia spoke up as Charlie pulled out a chair for Thomas to sit on.

"He discharged himself?" Charlie asked her.

"I'm a fucking sitting duck in there, Charlie." He paused, inhaling deeply. It sounded strained—pained even. "Sabini could send a man at any time. I need to get some things done."

She watched as Charlie set his fingers to Tommy's cheek, "fucks sake, you're burning up."

"Tommy…" Curly cut in, though he seemed uncomfortable to do so.

A bottle sat between his hands and Olivia cringed.

"Oh, Tommy, that's for rubbing into fucking horses." Charlie said, a grimace on his face.

"I am a horse." Thomas scoffed and Olivia rolled her eyes.

"If you were a horse, they'd shoot you with these many broken bones." Olivia said as she moved to Tommy's side. The back of her hand brushed his cheek. He was burning up.

Taking the bottle from Curly, she made a disgusted face. She knew this wasn't a smart idea, nor was it going to be pleasant.

"Black powder, Curly. Go." Thomas ordered and Curly disappeared momentarily.

Looking over him, her heart seemed to ache. He looked like shit. Cuts littered his entire face and his right eye was nearly swollen shut; broken bones lay under his skin; Sabini and his men nearly killed him.

"You pay for a bloody hospital and you're using witchcraft?" Charlie muttered; this drew a smug look to Olivia's face. Charlie was one of her favorites.

"I need to sleep in the open air and feel the boat under me, Charlie." Thomas' expression began to grow exhausted as he bickered with his Uncle.

"Oh, Tommy…" Charlie sighed, a small smile on his lips. "You're just like your mother."

"Do you have a boat here?" He asked, eyes closed, and his head tipped back.

"Only the _January_. She's heavy." Charlie stood up straight as Curly returned. "London will take four days."

"That'll do." He nodded vigorously, "can you spare Curly?" Charlie nodded and Thomas exhaled heavily. "Him and Olivia can take care of me."

Charlie looked to her now, "then God help you." He joked to which she rolled her eyes, smiling.

"You have tobacco?" Thomas said, looking to Curly.

"And tea and whiskey." Curly said excitedly, "we'll have you running around like a colt."

This made Olivia laugh and they all looked to her, amused. Clearly not many of them laughed, it seemed.

Embarrassed, she cleared her throat, shifting uncomfortably beside Thomas as he stood. They made their way to the boat.

"Tell Polly she's in charge while I'm away." Thomas glanced to Charlie, following the man. "If I don't come back, tell her she's in charge for good."

Within the hour, they set off for Camden Town. Tommy retired below the deck to rest while Olivia sat with Curly till the sun began to rise. It was going to be a long trip, she knew. But it was going to be worth it in the end.


	8. Chapter 7

Olivia enjoyed the ride. The sway of the boat as it went through the canals was soothing. She could see why Thomas was adamant on the ride to London. There was no way he'd be stressed during the trip. Since Alfie was expecting them and with the sun beginning to rise, she slipped beneath the cover that hid the small room.

Thomas was resting on a pile of cloth with a large quilt pulled over him. Even through all the layers, Olivia could see that he was shaking violently. The fever brought the chills, which she guessed the whiskey would possibly help to keep his core warm.

"Olivia." Thomas' voice called out softly and she moved to him, stooping down to her knees. "Hand me a cigarette." He spoke through gritted teeth, forcing himself not to stutter as he shook.

Looking around her, she sorted through a stack of rags until she found a silver case that held his cigarettes. She pulled one out and placed it between his lips before she lit it. His hand shook each time he had to pull the cigarette from his lips.

Olivia pressed her hand against his cheek. He was still burning up and his chills were relentless. His cigarette slowly burned out and she took it from him.

"Move over." Olivia ordered, lifting the quilt from atop him.

"What?" His eyes opened and he turned his head to her. The swelling in his eye had gone down drastically with the rest, but her main concern was getting his fever down and trying to help with his chills.

"Move." She gestured with her hand for him to scoot over, which he did hesitantly.

Olivia slid under, dropping the material over them. She pushed her hair back so it wouldn't be caught under her and she maneuvered her arms around his torso from behind him. Curling them snuggly around him, she was surprised not to meet any resistance from him. Although, the extra heat was probably welcoming to him.

"You don't have t-…" He started, but she cut him off.

"Tommy, you're burning up and this quilt isn't enough to keep you warm." She spoke softly, yet sternly, making sure not to grip him too tight. "So shut up and rest."

Minutes passed and then hours. She didn't remember falling asleep, but when she woke, a minute ray of sunshine slipped past the covering and illuminated the chamber they laid in.

Sometime during their rest, he had shifted onto his back and her head rested upon his chest. She noticed his shivering had ceased, and his chest rose and fell rhythmically as he slept. The quiet thump of his heart could be heard. It was calming to hear.

This was the most intimate the two had ever been. Aside from the occasional dance at the races and family gatherings, the pair had never been so close. For the past two years, Olivia and Thomas' encounters had been strictly business. Though they were close acquaintances, they tried to keep their meetings to a minimum.

"Your thoughts bothering you that much?" Thomas' mumbled sleepily and she looked up.

His eyes remained closed. "Your body gives you away when you're anxious."

Rolling her eyes, Olivia moved carefully as she went to sit up. His arm around her waist held her in place and when she went to glare at him, she found him watching her. The suddenness of their proximity brought a wave of butterflies to her stomach.

"Glad to see you're recovering well." She breathed, attempting to keep her cool. Never had he looked at her the way he was. It was a look she wasn't familiar with herself and it drew an uncomfortable sensation to her chest now.

The slightest smile curled his lips. Seeing Thomas smile, even slightly, was rare. She loved seeing his smile on the few occasions she had. It was wide and put his dimples on display. His eyes would crinkle in a way that even revealed the smile lines on his face. A glimpse into the Thomas Shelby before the war.

Everybody made remarks about how different Thomas was before he enlisted. He would make jokes and laugh; he was a completely different person than the stories she heard. It made her heart ache. She would've loved to see the softer side of him.

Her heart jumped as he lifted his hand from her side and let the tips of his fingers trace along her cheek, and then her jawline. His eyes held hers and she could feel the warmth spread through her body, every inch devoured. The pad of his thumb came to trace her lower lip, which subconsciously fell open.

This was unlike Thomas.

"Tommy!" Curly shouted, tossing back the cover. The sudden outburst caused Olivia to jump back. She cleared her throat, attempting to obscure the red that burned her cheeks. Why was she so embarrassed?

Curly went on about how they'd be a day sooner than expected. She could see the aggravation on Thomas' face as he thanked Curly for letting him know. She slipped out, a cigarette between her lips as she fought to calm her nerves. She'd always considered Thomas a business associate. He had fallen for Grace, but she had betrayed him, and Olivia, as well as his family, knew he spent some nights with Lizzie Stark after Grace left Birmingham. An attempt to heal his heart, she supposed.

Two days later, they were in Camden Town. Olivia walked through the working men, busy as they loaded and unloaded crates. Camden Town reminded her of Small Heath. The working men, the smoke-filled air—it was mirrored here. Thomas followed behind her closely and quietly, ignoring the stares they two received from the prying eyes.

Rounding a corner, she slipped between a set of doors that were tucked into a corner of the large building. Thomas followed suit and she caught him looking weary as they followed the corridor to a set of two large wooden doors that sat open.

Ollie recognized her immediately and he moved to pat her down with Thomas next.

"They're little ones, Ollie, let 'em through." Alfie's voice cut in and she turned to see him. He was just as she remembered him. It'd been around a year since she last met with Alfie. Surely, he wouldn't be too thrilled by her current business arrangements, but she knew he'd keep his mouth shut.

Thomas held his hand out, stopping Olivia from stepping in front of him. The gesture made her roll her eyes and she let him ahead of her. Although this was his meeting that he wanted arranged, Olivia was the reason it was even agreed to by Alfie.

The two had met on one of her trips to London after she first moved. She was there for her aunt, who had invited her as a plus one to a friend's wedding. Seems Alfie had been invited as well. He looked entirely uncomfortable the entire time. He was one of the main connections that drew her into being a successful businesswoman. Alfie was a mentor of sorts.

"You want to take a look at my bakery?" Alfie began, leading both through the cellar-like room. "We bake all sorts here, mate, yeah." He rubbed at his face, seeming uninterested as he walked. His tone reflected that. "Did you know we bake over 10,000 loaves a week? Can you believe it? We bake the white bread; we bake the brown bread. We bake all sorts." He came to a stop, turning to them. "Would you like to try some?"

Thomas sniffed, flicking his cigarette down and crushing it with the toe of his shoe.

"Bread." Alfie stated, his hand waving over a table full of different bottles containing liquor.

Olivia rolled her eyes. Thomas seemed amused before he agreed. He turned to her then as Alfie asked, "brown or white?"

"Brown." Thomas replied, his eyes moving back to the table.

Once Thomas had the glass in his hand, he took a sip. A breath left his lips and he nodded. Alfie watched him closely and Olivia wanted to laugh. They seemed to be sizing one another up. She would never understand why men felt the need to do that. It came off as though they had some type of compensation.

"Not bad." Tommy commented.

"Not bad, eh?" Alfie questioned, his tone dripping with disbelief. "Not bad?" He made a disgusted face, "it's fucking awful, that stuff. Fucking brown stuff, it's horrible. It's for the workers, yeah. Now, white…" He paused, setting his own glass down, "that's for the fucking bosses. Come on."

Sat across from Alfie, Olivia had her legs crossed and a cigarette between her fingers. Thomas sat beside her with a rigid posture. Though, she knew it was from the pain he still felt in his body. She was surprised he'd gone along and wanted to continue the meeting.

"Well, I've heard very bad, bad, _bad_ things about you Birmingham people." Alfie started, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the desk that separated them. "You're Gypsies, right? So what do you live in, a fucking tent or a caravan?"

"_Alfie_." Olivia cut him off. "We came here to discuss business with you. Not to sit here why you insult us."

Alfie's eyes turned to her and she gave him a look. The Jewish man before her lacked common courtesy. Olivia always thought his brain and his mouth were missing the correct nerves, leading to him speaking without any kind of filter.

"Right, rum is for fun and fucking, isn't it?" Alfie turned back to Thomas. "So, whiskey, now that—that is for business." He pulled out a glass for the three of them along with a bottle.

"Let's talk first, eh?" Thomas cut in. He knew what Alfie was trying to do. Liquor was good proofing water. It helped to show the true intentions of others. He had used the same trick when the two rebels had come to the Garrison to try and make a deal with him about the guns he had stolen.

"Suit yourself." Was all the other man said as he put the bottle and glasses away. "They say you had your life saved by a policeman."

"I have policemen on my payroll." Thomas countered, nodding as he spoke.

"Well, I don't like policemen because policemen, they can't be trusted." Alfie sat back in his chair; eyes trained on the other man.

"Mr. Sabini uses policemen all the time." Olivia spoke now, though his eyes remained on Thomas'. "It's why he's winning the war in London and you're losing it." Her tone was straightforward. She wasn't going to sugar coat anything. She never did when it came to Alfie.

"A war ain't over till it's over, Livie." Eyes on her now, Alfie seemed tense now. She knew a nerve was struck but she was trying to prove her point. "You were in the war?" This was aimed at Thomas and she watched carefully as Alfie continued, "I once carried out my own personal for of a stigmata on an Italian." His right hand was inside the drawer beside him. "I pushed his face up against a trench and shoved a six-inch nail up his fucking nose, and I hammered it home with a duckboard. It was fucking biblical, mate."

Thomas' remained unfazed, eyes on the Jewish man. Alfie was attempting to use a scare tactic on Thomas. She'd heard nearly the same speech when she'd first met up with him. Although, he was more charismatic and less gruff when it was them two.

"So, don't sit there in my chair and tell me I'm losing my war to a fucking wop." Alfie seethed. He was pissed.

"That war was a long time ago." Thomas said. "You need to be more realistic."

The drawer beside him slammed shut, causing her to jump slightly.

"_Realistic_?" Alfie asked, leaning forward.

"If you weren't losing the war, you wouldn't have agreed to meet with us." Thomas stated.

"Livie is the only reason I agreed to it, mate." Alfie scoffed then, "you're trying to sell me something. What?"

"We join forces."

"Fuck off."

Olivia was beginning to grow tired of their pissing contest. She was tired and hungry, the smell of the dusty cellar only fueling her ire. Men were such primitive beings, they needed to updo any and every other male. It was stupid to her. Neither was better than the other.

"Enough." Olivia finally spoke up, leaning forward and making sure she had Alfie's attention. "Your distillery provides one-tenth of your income. Protection is another 10% and the rest you make from the races." Her eyes moved to the drawer as he opened it again. "I know you keep your gun in the drawer—right next to the whiskey. We've been through this before—you offer a deal or death."

"Mr. Solomons," Thomas spoke then, sitting forward and rubbing his hand along his chin. "I know what we say makes you angry. But we're here to offer a solution. You see, Mr. Sabini is running all your bookies of your courses."

"He's closing down the premises that take your rum." Olivia added, watching Alfie stroke his beard. "People don't trust your protection anymore, Alfie."

Alfie's index finger came up as he looked from Olivia to Thomas, "you're the bloke who shot Billy Kimber, right? You did, you fucking shot him. That's you. You fucking betrayed him, mate."

"Under special circumstances." Olivia cut in and Alfie's expression softened.

If he knew of the incident with Kimber, Olivia knew Alfie was aware of the circumstances. She would've been killed.

"We can offer you 100 good men. With weapons." Olivia continued. "And a new relationship with the police."

"You know, I always thought you'd have a great, big fucking gold ring in your nose." Alfie laughed, amused at himself as he sat back. Thomas remained unfazed and Olivia merely rolled her eyes. "Go on. Tell us your plan."


	9. Chapter 8

Applause sounded as Polly came through the door. Olivia and Thomas had planned to be back in time for her birthday. Olivia stood back as Thomas came through the group of men, welcoming Polly and sliding an arm around her shoulder. He guided her back, motioning for Olivia to follow. Arthur shouted for the men to get back to work.

"John, Finn, bring the car around." Thomas ordered, cigarette in hand as they all walked towards the side door leading to the alleyway.

The ride to the house wasn't nearly as long as she had expected. She sat between John and Finn, listening to the older bloke gab on about God knows what. Olivia was surprised John hadn't slipped up earlier. He was shit at keeping secrets unless it had to do with their business. But, this—this was a gift for Polly.

Pulling up to the building, a grin formed on Olivia's lips. Polly's face morphed, disbelief evident. She knew she would be surprised. Thomas had done everything he could to make sure when he bought the house, it went unnoticed to her.

"You said you were going to buy Ada a house," Polly spoke, her words soft as she looked around the house. It was bigger than anything she'd been in. Polly had deserved it though.

"I did." Thomas retorted, hat in his hands as he watched his aunt gaze around the house.

"This is ours?" She asked, eyes finally moving to Thomas as she stood in the middle of the living area. She had a smile on her lips.

"No, Polly," Thomas couldn't help the slight smile on his lips, "this is yours."

Polly looked to Arthur, John, Finn, and Olivia; each had a wide grin on their face. Thomas had planned this weeks ago. Once he figured out where Polly's son, Michael, was—thanks to Olivia's help—they paid for the house. He wanted Polly and Michael to live here together. It was another part of the surprise.

"What would I do with all these rooms?" Polly questioned, eyeing Thomas.

"Well, you could relax—for one." He started. "Spend the weekends here." Moving towards the window, he pulled the drapes back. "It has a garden. Eh? You love roses, Pol." Pausing, he turned back to her, slipping his hands into his pockets, "I don't know. Have a piano, have people around, they can have a singsong."

"God help the neighbors," John snorted, smug as ever as he glanced to Arthur.

"Fuck the neighbors." Arthur retorted. He lifted his hand, dangling the keys in front of her.

Polly took the keys before sitting down. She hadn't said much. She seemed to be in a trance as she gazed down at the glistening steel in her palm.

"Arthur." Thomas nodded in the direction of the door.

His older brother gestured for the other two boys to follow him and Olivia moved to sit beside Polly on the sofa. Her eyes moved to Thomas momentarily and he nodded. She was able to tell Polly the next part of her surprise.

"Pol," Olivia began, her hand coming to rest on the other woman's back. "We know you haven't been happy in a while…And, we know why." Olivia paused as she watched Polly's face morph to an understanding expression. "Esme has a good heart. She has."

Thomas sat opposite of the two of them after handing his aunt a cigarette. Lighting his own, he sat forward, "I've spoken to Esme and she told me."

"Told you what?" Polly countered. Her posture became stiff, defensive. Olivia had picked up on nearly everyone's mannerisms in the past two years.

Ada would always avoid eye contact and fight back with a slew of curses when she felt cornered or had been caught in a lie. John, well—he seemed to give himself away. His eyes would stay on the ground and he had a sullen aura around him. Arthur got angry when he was caught. Though, it seemed to be a defense mechanism that worked well for him. A lot of people were terrified of Arthur. Polly would become stiff, playing dumb and making as little eye contact as possible.

Thomas, though, he was the only one that she couldn't fully crack. She knew he smoked cigarettes more hastily when he was stressed or upset. But he always held eye contact. Never flinched, stiffened, or even cursed. That is, unless he was extremely angry. He nearly always kept his cool.

"She told me what it is that would make you happy." Thomas looked to Olivia then. "With the help of Ms. Pearson, we've spoken to our contacts in the police. They have contacts in the council. And they have contacts with the people who keep the parish records. Records of adoption. And of confidential forced removals. Now, with your permission, I'd like to grease a few palms and take a look at the records they never showed you."

Polly's expression was indescribable. She was surprised, sad, yet looked relieved almost. Olivia couldn't put a specific emotion with it. She sat back, licking her lips. Tears built in her eyes.

"Pol," Olivia spoke softly, moving to take the woman's unoccupied hand in her own. "We're going to find your son and daughter and bring them home. That's what this house is for…So you can bring your family home where they belong."

"We're moving up, Pol." Thomas' lips tilted, the shadow of a smile on his face as he reached to take her hand.

The countryside was prettier during the spring. Flowers had begun to bloom, yet some were still fighting to pop from the confines of their buds. Fields were filled with green grass and livestock. The sky was clear, sporting an array of different shaped clouds. Olivia remembered how New York's skies rarely every had clouds. At night, unlike here, New York skies were merely a never-ending expanse of blue and black. No stars painted for a child's amusement.

"We're here." Thomas' voiced pulled her from her daze.

The car had stopped at the end of a dirt trail. It led to a cozy cottage lined with trees and flowers. As they made their way down in, two boys could be seen running through the tall grass. The younger one had a ball in his hands and the other was running behind him. They had jumped the fence before meeting a woman at the gate and asking if she'd done anything for lunch.

Looking to Thomas, he remained calm. Olivia was nervous. She didn't like the idea of uprooting a family. However, Polly deserved to know her son was alive.

"Mrs. Johnson?" Olivia addressed the older woman as she came to stand before her.

"Yes. Who are you?" Mrs. Johnson questioned, squinting against the sun.

"We're from the Birmingham Council. Bordesley Parish." Olivia continued, "we're sorry for popping up without notice. Our letter must've been lost."

"We'd like to talk about your son, about Henry." Thomas cut her off. She threw a glare at him but cleared her throat before she looked back to Mrs. Johnson.

"May we come in?"

"I'd rather you didn't." The woman retorted. Her demeanor changed from a welcoming mother, to a defensive mother bear. Her body shifted, blocking the gate opening. "He doesn't like to talk about this."

Thomas began to question her. Asking about if Henry was aware of his real identity. The woman continued to become angrier. She really hadn't told Henry—Michael—what really happened. She allowed him to believe he was taken from some drunken, abusive addict. Olivia flinched. This woman's snobby attitude made her want to smack her.

Looking past her, Olivia watched as Michael walked towards them. He seemed curious. His eyebrows were drawn together.

Michael was stunning up close. He had Polly's eyes, the curly hair. He was lean, built in the right places. His eyes flicked between the two of them, lingering on Olivia as he spoke.

"Who are you?"

"Please, Henry, go on!" Mrs. Johnson called out, attempting to usher the boy away.

"Your real name is Michael Gray." Thomas cut in as he saw the lingering glance. "Your mother wants to see you." He had nodded at Olivia who pulled the card from her purse, moving to hand it to Michael. "The address is on the back of this card."

Olivia held the card between her fingers and Michael took it from her.

A sudden pain erupted on the right of her face and she felt Thomas' hands on her waist, keeping her from stumbling and pulling her back behind him. "She just wants to talk!"

Before any more hands could be thrown, Thomas led Olivia back towards their car. Her face burned. She cupped her cheek, rubbing at it in an attempt to ease the pain. She slouched back in her seat, Thomas rounding it to the driver's side after helping her in.

"Has a nasty blow, that one." Olivia mumbled to Thomas who had settled in beside her.

"Let's get you home before any more mature women decide to make the left match, eh?"


	10. Chapter 9

The grand reopening of the Garrison was highly anticipated among the Small Heath men and women. They'd waited weeks for the pub to open up once it was rebuilt due to the bombing. It was the complete opposite of how it used to look. The grungy, poor look it had taken was swapped with a classier, more sophisticated feel. This was sure to boost profits, as well. The liquor was more varied, thanks to Alfie. The crowd was even bigger than she had remembered.

Olivia took her time getting ready. Her black dress fell to her ankles and the boa to match rested lazily over her shoulders. Her hair was down, framing her face and clashing with the bright red lipstick that was spread along her lips. She was to look her best—she knew this. Any event such as this, she was to be dressed her best.

Her door clicked behind her, the lock turning before it was tossed into her handbag. The air seemed clearer as she made her way down Garrison Lane. Nobody was out. They had all made their way to the Garrison as soon as they had been alerted of its opening.

Olivia wasn't new to walking alone. She had done it so many times. She had stopped for a while due to the assault from Campbell. But, seeing as he wasn't around anymore. She found herself enjoying her walks. It was peaceful. A way for her to think and clear her mind.

"Ms. Pearson?" A voice called out and she turned, stiff.

The voice was the same. Gruff, yet it seemed more polite. The cocking sound of a gun triggered the déjà vu.

Her eyes met his and he limped, hand on a cane, into her sight. "We've got to stop meeting like this."

"It's a bit sad to have to pull a gun on a lady to get any kind of attention, don't you agree?" Olivia spoke, her voice taking on a malicious tone.

"Well, I'm at a disadvantage." He wiggled the cane, moving closer to her. He was now an inch away. He holstered his gun then.

"I see," Olivia replied, "Grace should've aimed higher." Her fingers tightened around her bag.

"Hanging around the Shelby's seems to have rubbed off on you." He smiled, the sarcasm dripping from between his teeth.

Before she could reply, a hand came up to her throat. For a crippled man, Campbell sure knew how to move fast otherwise. Olivia wondered when he got back to town. She had thought he'd left since he retrieved the guns. Yet, here she was with some Irish shmucks hand on her throat.

Her own hands fell from her bag, which clattered to the ground, and came to curl around his hand. She tried to pull it off, but his grip was unrelenting.

"If only y-you..—" She struggled to talk, barely able to spit out her next words. "you had been th-that… fast with Grace." The hand tightened and she ground her teeth together.

"Listen, you little racketeer whore," Campbell spat, pulling her up to his face. "The only reason you aren't dead right now is because I need Thomas. Otherwise, you'd be locked up, getting your brains screwed into the next century."

He threw her back, releasing her neck. She stumbled, catching herself as she gasped for air. Campbell moved to walk around her, spitting down at her. Before he walked away, he tossed an envelope to her. "Give this to Thomas."

A burning letter sat in front of him as Olivia slammed open the doors to the back of the Garrison. She had ignored Arthur's whoops and hello's as she came through the front doors. Everyone had watched her stalk directly to the back. Though, that didn't divert their celebrating.

Moving to the table, she snatched his cigarette from his lips and slammed the envelope down onto the table in front of him. "Why the _fuck_ didn't you tell me Campbell was back?"

"Didn't think it interested you." Thomas replied, eyes moving up to hers.

"Really?" She scoffed, ripping her boa from her neck. There was a light bruise coming in around her neck from the policemen. "Tell that to him!"

Thomas stood, his eyes narrowing as he circled the table and took her chin. He tilted her head and she snatched away from him, swatting his hands away.

"I can't even leave my fucking home and take a walk without wondering if him or one of his idiot men will be there, Thomas!" She shouted; her eyes trained on his.

"Livie," He began but her glare shut him up. He sighed. Thomas never called her that unless he knew he had fucked up.

Moving back to her, Thomas took her chin and examined the red ring. His fingers came down and traced along it.

"You're coming to stay with me." He said then, moving back to the table and lifting the envelope. It was stuffed into his coat. "It'll keep you out of the crossfire and safe."

Olivia moved to stop him; her hand pressed into his chest. "Thomas, when does it stop?" Her eyes were on his and for the first time in a long time, she had tears brimming her eyes. Campbell was one of the few men that scared her.

He was an agent of the crown. Obviously, his hold on Thomas was down to some kind of blackmail or vendetta. But he had the resources to kill any of them. Olivia didn't want to die at the hands of some corrupt, power-crazed, egotistic policeman. But she also didn't want Thomas to die either. Whatever he was involved in, she knew would get him killed eventually.

Thomas' hands came to frame her face and he leaned in close, holding her gaze. "Everything's going to be alright, Livie. You've got to trust me."

She searched his eyes. For what? She honestly didn't know. But the truth was—she didn't know if everything was going to be alright. She wanted to trust him and go on with their night. Wanted to so badly. But the events of the past started to flood her memory.

Campbell pistol whipping her. Benjamin being shot in front of her. Kimber's men surrounding her in the truck. Danny falling dead a few feet away from her. Ada nearly being raped. It was all hitting her at once.

Everything was swept away when a pair of lips met hers. Olivia froze momentarily at the contact, but it faded quickly as she melted into the kiss. It was a slow kiss. Not rushed or sloppy. Their lips moved perfectly together, and their tongues followed suit, skilled. Her hands moved to curl around his wrists as his hands slipped to the curl into her hair at the nape of her neck.

The taste of tobacco and rum was welcoming. Her nerves and fears from before completely dissolved, leaving her only with a rush of butterflies in the pit of her stomach and a thumping heart.

When Thomas pulled away, Olivia's eyes fluttered open and his intense gaze held her still. The pads of his thumbs brushed along the spots below her ears.

"Trust me, eh?"


	11. Chapter 10

News of Arthur's run in with Mrs. Ross, the mother of the boy he beat to death, quickly passed between the Peaky men. It took the back burner to the current situation. The young man they hired, the Digbeth Kid, had been killed by Sabini's men while he was in jail. Thomas and Arthur had agreed to hire him due to the fact he had no record. He was a naïve boy, obsessed with Billy the Kid, which is why he was so willing to be apart of the Blinder's.

In return, Thomas and Olivia came to the agreement that they would purchase a horse. It was the only logical way to infiltrate the races and have a credible reason to do so in the midst of Sabini's men that dominated the racecourses.

At the auction, Olivia looked on with a bored expression. Auctions were never an interest to her. She nearly always bought her horses privately. It was cheaper and insured that the horse had the proper training and technique needed to win the races. Thomas, on the other hand, was currently watching each horse that was brought out. He was extremely picky when it came to this part. Thomas relied on Curly for his expertise on the background of his horses. He had to make sure he didn't end up with a lame horse.

Looking across the balcony, Olivia spotted a dark, short haired woman. And, as she squinted to get a better look, she recognized who it was; May Carleton.

May was someone Olivia met a year after she had moved to Birmingham. She had enlisted the help of May to train her horses. She was an older woman, early thirties, who was a widow. Her husband, Sir Ian Carleton, had died and she lived in their mansion. Olivia used to visit occasionally, though, she had stopped. The two had kept in contact via letters.

Excusing herself, she ignored Thomas' curious look as she made her way through the crowded balcony. The Blinder's eyes could be felt on her as she excused herself, nudging people from her path.

As she came from between a group of young men, Olivia moved to May's side. The other woman hadn't noticed she was there.

"See anything you like?" Olivia asked, a sly smile curling her lips. She could see May ogling Thomas and she snorted.

May turned then, a wide smile pulling on her lips. "Livie!"

"Hey, doll." Olivia laughed, accepting the hug the other woman pulled her into.

"Where in the hell have you been?" May questioned, pulling back to look over Olivia.

"Here, there—you know how it is." Olivia shrugged, moving to glance over her. "You're still as gorgeous as ever."

"I could say the same about you," May was grinning ear to ear. "What are you doing here?" Her eyebrow lifted in question. "You never buy your horses at auctions..."

"Ah, that." Moving her gaze to the other side of the balcony, she met Thomas' eyes. "Seems the party I'm with operates rather differently."

May's eyes followed her gaze. "Mm-hm. Got a wild one of your own, eh?"

"Something like that."

When the auction was over, Olivia led May to the Peaky boys, introducing the lot of them with a gesture to the older woman. They all seemed to be itching to go, though Thomas was kind enough to nod in response. May excused herself after a few moments, bidding Olivia a goodbye with a hug.

"Tommy," Curly spoke frantically as they walked, making their way through the now empty auction room. "Maybe she was the something bad I had a feeling about."

"She looked alright to me, Curly." John laughed and Olivia rolled her eyes, turning to John as they walked.

"Careful, John boy, I'll have a little chat with Esme and see if she feels the same." Olivia joked, a smirk on her face.

The boys laughed and John shoved at Michael who had attempted to hide his grin.

"She has good contacts in the racing world." Olivia continued, turning back to face forwards. "Sure as Hell could help us in the long run." She eyed Thomas with a smug expression. "Possibly even legally."

He rolled his eyes, though the corner of his lips twitched. "Here, Michael—you drive." Thomas pulled a set of keys from his coat, tossing them to the younger boy.

"Thomas Shelby?"

Everyone's eyes moved to the man who sat in the middle of the room. He had a beige trench coat on and a hat to match.

Before anyone could say anything, the man stood and raised his gun. Thomas' arms immediately hooked around Olivia, pulling her from in front of him and shielding her.

Arthur lunged at the man, a shot ringing out as Arthur tackled him to the ground. She could hear the distinct sound of shouting, followed by more gunshots.

Thomas moved quickly as he grabbed a discarded gun from the ground. "John!"

Another set of arms secured around her, pulling her back. A gasp slipped past her lips at the suddenness of everything. Olivia's eyes scanned around the room amidst the chaos. Arthur was beating the first man.

The second man had been shot almost immediately and he laid motionless on the ground. The group of men were trying to pull Arthur away before he killed the first man. Her breathing was ragged, uneven. Her heart raced within her chest.

Michael caught her eye. He was frozen in place, watching everything happen. He didn't look scared nor petrified as she had thought he would. His expression resembled awe almost. As if the situation before him was something he'd wanted to experience for so long.

"He's still breathing." Thomas' voice pulled her from her daze and John pulled her to her feet. "Don't get blood on the kid!" He moved, pushing Michael back. "Michael, you didn't see a thing. This didn't happen!"

The younger man stared down Thomas, who was breathing raggedly.

"Alright, give me the keys." Thomas glanced to the men then back to Michael. "Michael…give me the keys."

"I'm alright to drive." Michael stated, his eyes not moving from Thomas'.

"Alright." Thomas nodded after a moment. "Go on. Take Olivia with you."

The two left quickly. Not chancing a look back.

Later that night, Olivia found herself at home, soaking within her tub. She was sure she had acquired whiplash from the adventures of the day. Her head rested back against the rim of the tub and her eyes were shut with a cigarette resting between her fingers. The ride back had been anything but relaxing. She felt on end until she'd excused herself from the betting shop and was taken home by Charlie and Curly.

She had wanted a chance to soak and calm herself down. The daily endeavors that came with being in business with the Blinder's was beginning to wear her down. Being on her own, she was never in as much trouble as the Shelby's. Benjamin and her men made sure to stay from the limelight. That's what kept them safe. Now, she was as much of a target as Thomas and his brothers.

A dull ache settled between her collarbones at the thought of Benjamin. He was the last of her family after her aunt died. The two had been through so much and getting involved with the Shelby's is what got him killed. To a point, she regretted getting involved in this dirty business, but she needed the money.

Sighing, Olivia put out her cigarette and lifted herself from her bath. It didn't take her long and she was in front of the mirror, brushing her hair with her silk slip brushing along her knees as she swayed.

A knock on her bedroom door made her jump.

"It's open." She called out, setting her brush down and lifting her robe from the foot of her bed.

As she went to pull it on, a hand stopped her and took the fabric from her hands. When she turned, Thomas' hands found her face, pulling her against him and pressing his lips to hers.

Her own hands curled around the hem of his vest. The touch of his lips ignited that fire that managed to stay tucked away during a majority of their days together. She fared in portraying herself as a business associate, though she knew that flame could only be concealed for so long.

A tremor ran down her spine at the feel of his fingertips sliding down and pushing the straps of her slip down her arms. The cool air hit her exposed skin when the fabric pooled at her feet. His touch was so inviting and slow, drawing out the feeling of being so close to him.

Calloused fingers swept around her torso and she moved to undo his vest. Within a second, he was standing in his trousers and his chest was pressed to hers. Her nipples brushed along the skin of his chest, drawing them to a head and pulling a familiar heat from between her legs.

She would be lying if she said she hadn't wanted this for some time.

Tobacco and whiskey met her tongue as his own swept across it. She slid her arms to his lower back, pulling her with him as she backed towards her bed. There was no hesitation as he turned, nimble as can be, before pulling her down to straddle his lap once she had pushed his pants from his hips. Heat flourished between them, soft breaths filling the air and wandering hands exploring new terrain.

Olivia could feel his cock pressed into her groin, hard and ready for her. It brought a sense of pleasure to her to know that she had this effect on him. For so long, Thomas was someone that screamed _power_. Being able to be feel him surrendering to her was exhilarating.

Thomas shifted his hips, the friction muddling her thoughts and drawing a quiet gasp from her lips. It had been so long since she'd had sex. Even so, she didn't feel nervous. His hands ghosted along her spine and hooked into the hem of her underwear, pulling them down as he urged her to her feet. His own followed, and as he pulled her into his arms and moved to lay her back against the comforter, he paused.

For a moment, she thought something was wrong. He had leaned back onto his knees, eyes dark as they danced along the length of her body.

And, for Thomas, seeing this woman bared to him after all this time drew a primal urge from within him. It was something he hadn't felt since Grace. However, Olivia wasn't Grace. She was everything Grace wasn't. Brown curly hair, deep green eyes with curves that replaced the ones Grace lacked. He had loved Grace—or had begun to. Her betrayal and her disappearance were nothing but a rare hand of luck.

Olivia's chest heaved; her cheeks reddened as she held his gaze.

This woman, he thought to himself, was nothing like anyone he'd ever known. That scared Thomas as much as it did arouse him.

Before Olivia could say anything to him, Thomas was bent over her, mouth finding hers and hands circling her as he drew her up against him. One arm came down to keep them steady, his palm pressed into the mattress while his other kept a tight hold on her waist.

The heat that spread through her body was back. A thin sheet of slickness coated her thighs as he let the tip of his cock stroke along the folds of her pussy. Pleasure rippled through her at the feeling, his hips not altering their rhythm. Her moans were muffled into his mouth, nipples brushing along his skin and multiplying the pleasure that built between her legs.

Hands tangled into his hair, Olivia altered her hips, pushing them up then back down. The head of his cock was pushed past the lips of her pussy and into her. He was quick, pulling her flushed against him as he turned. She straddled him now, hands taut in his hair and his body pressed to her front.

Slowly, he loosened his grip and she slid down his cock until he was fully sheathed. The two stayed still, riveting in the pleasure that vibrated through them. The ecstasy was immaculate. He stretched her in just the right way, and she felt like a welcoming vice around his cock. Warm, wet, and inviting.

Olivia began to rock her hips, his cock slipping in and out of her pussy. Each movement drew equal moans of pleasure from the two of them. They fell into a rhythm. Skin sliding along skin, sweat building on their chests as they moved, and the sounds of pleasure filling the room.

Thomas' hands moved along the length of her back and he groaned lightly as she tightened around him. His face went from burying into her neck, lips tracing her skin there, to her mouth. His tongue immediately finding solace in the taste of her. Sweet with a hint of tobacco. Her bedtime cigarette, he knew.

Thomas and Olivia knew a great deal about each other. This—though—this was more intimate than the two had ever been. Nearly dying together, working the races and perfecting their way of transportation for their liquor was different than this moment. This drew them together closer, pulling at those strings of his heart he thought had been buried before the war.

That familiar sensation began to build within his groin and his grip tightened, drawing her closer. Her own rhythm had increased, enticing her into giving into him. Giving into the pleasure. And when she felt his arms grow tighter, she knew he was going to come.

Pushing him back with her palm flat on his chest, he watched as she gyrated her hips, drawing him closer and closer to orgasm. Tipping his head back, Thomas reveled in the feeling of her wet and warm pussy as it wrapped around his cock. His hands had ahold of her hips now, tight, as her own gasps of bliss slipped past her lips.

God, what he would do to draw this moment out. But the two of them knew time wasn't a luxury for them. They had business to attend to, which was something that would always be a priority to Thomas, as well as Olivia.

"_Tommy_…" Olivia's voice was merely a gasp as her rhythm staggered and when her body went rigid as she rode him, her pussy enclosing on him, Thomas finally gave in as she did.

Thomas swore, guiding her along his cock as the tremors raked through them. He drew out a breath, sitting himself up as he buried himself within her. Arms locked around her waist, his grip was relentless as his cum filled her and her pussy spasmed around him.

Minutes after, they laid there. Breaths heavy, she was pressed into his side and his arm was behind her head. Leg draped over his waist, Olivia and Thomas passed a cigarette between each other, reveling in the high. Her eyelids were fluttering, heavy with sleep. It had been awhile since she was able to drift off so easily. Nightmares plagued her dreams from time to time.

That was when she was alone. Thomas was with her now with a cloud of smoke slipping from between his teeth. It didn't take long before she was drawn into the world of slumber and the sound of his beating heart beneath her ear was her guide.

For the first time in months, Olivia had a deep, dreamless sleep.


	12. Author's Note

Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, and favored this story! I really hope you're all enjoying it as much as I am writing it! I do want to apologise about the long wait for the 11th Chapter. Taking care of a 6 month old, as well as auditioning for the local theater _and _returning to school within the next two weeks, has been/is hectic to say the least!

But, I do hope that you bear with me and tag along for the rest of this journey!

Much love and appreciation!


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